


Echoes of Blood and Gold

by DianaSolaris



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, Character Death, M/M, Obsession, Separation Anxiety, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DianaSolaris/pseuds/DianaSolaris
Summary: "I dip my hands in stardustReach them to the skyand wonder if it's still the same moon in your eyes."A collection of poetry and drabble for Codell for the FMA Secret Santa!





	1. Chapter 1

i. gold

 

               I dip my hands in stardust  
               reach them to the sky  
               and wonder if it’s still the same moon in your eyes.

               I used to know where you were  
               by your heartbeat  
               by the tingling in my nerves

               I could close my eyes  
               and find you in the dark.

               I dipped my hands in blood and fire  
               to bind and chain your soul  
               and in the end I have to hope  
               that I turned iron into gold.


	2. echo

ii. echo

your fingerprints are on the mantelpiece  
your picture’s on the wall  
your name hangs on the house’s lips  
quiet as the grave

your coat hangs on the closet hook  
your exploits in the history books  
I think that I was there with you  
I wish I was that brave

your shadow flickering on the grate  
your echoes in the fire  
somewhere between here and there  
close enough to crave

your footsteps on the floorboards  
your voice echoing in my ear  
a brush of a hand against my fingers -  
means there’s something there to save.


	3. Quiet

He knows that the boy behind him has left his name behind, but he has to bite it back anyway. “What do you want?” he asks.

The boy shrugs. He’s all black hair and tangles and thorns, metal arm and leg unhidden and gleaming – incongruous machinery on a piece of living forest. He sits down on the chair and folds his legs, just as wordlessly.

Alphonse looks at him in the mirror, teasing a brush through his own chestnut hair and wondering if the boy is noticing his curious gaze. It’s hard to tell.

He doesn’t mind that he’s here.


	4. Home

      home is -  
               you don’t know how to answer  
               such a simple question.  
               not from somebody with your brother’s face.

               home is -  
               a plaintive voice with a stray  
               a nose buried in a book  
               a snorted laugh

               home is-  
               burnt down while he was crying  
               but you try not to regret that.

               home is-  
  
               “Home isn’t here,”

               and you don’t care how his face falls  
               it’s not breaking your heart  
               not when you fully intend on leaving anyway.

               (“home isn’t here” but when he’s sleeping  
               and he makes the same faces when he dreams  
               you have to tell yourself that over and over again.)


	5. Blood

Now the boy is a bloody mess with a red ocean spilling from his lips – now do it now – and Alphonse doesn’t want to freeze up, doesn’t want to be that one with the pathetic fear of doing what needs to be done, but he can’t help it.

”Now!”

His name is Wrath, Alphonse remembers even though he never quite forgot it. And with the stones back in his system, Wrath’s eyes are a brilliant purple, staring him down, making him move.

He activates the circle. He thinks, it will be worth it. And then he thinks, at what cost?


	6. leaving

 

               don’t walk away from me back into the breach  
               don’t make me feel the earth shift under my feet  
               don’t tear my heart out through my mouth and say you’re saving me.

                _don’t look at me like that or else I’ll never leave._


	7. love

               He knows it’s stupid. He knows Wrath would have laughed at him. But here, with the soil of a new world lurching under his feet and his only way home closing above his head, Alphonse feels complete.

               Edward is looking at him with a mix of fear and happiness. And Alphonse tries, he tries to find the words inside his aching, bursting head for –  _they were waiting for me, they brought me here, memories of you I was denied –_

-and instead, settles with a smile and a burst of tears, amber hair sticking to saltwater cheeks,

               “I love you.”


End file.
